


Useful

by CrowLovesPancakes



Series: Ford Pines and His Apprentice [1]
Category: Gravity Falls
Genre: Bill Cipher is Alive, Bill Cipher is a Jerk, Gen, How Do I Tag, M/M, Out of Character?, Trauma
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-26
Updated: 2020-10-26
Packaged: 2021-03-09 02:29:14
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,401
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27206651
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CrowLovesPancakes/pseuds/CrowLovesPancakes
Summary: It was his dream to be the Author's apprentice. But even he didn't want him.
Relationships: Dipper Pines & Ford Pines, Dipper Pines/Ford Pines
Series: Ford Pines and His Apprentice [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1986199
Kudos: 8





	Useful

**Author's Note:**

> First time writing Gravity Falls fanfiction. The characterization might suck and I'm sorry if it does. I tried to keep things to what they might think or say, but I can't be too sure. :/  
> Also I don't advocate for MAPS or Pedophiles. This is fanfiction and not real. Also goes for incest, though there isn't that for this one.

“Look, kid, in the heat of the moment, I.. asked you to be my apprentice. I’m sorry. But it just is not working out.”

The words resounded in his head like the dismal tones of piano keys being smashed down, repeating like a broken record. He walked away, stepping backwards as silently as he could, his legs shaking unsteadily. When he got far enough, his hand on the elevator button, he had pressed them, again, and again. “Dipper? Are you there?” He wouldn’t turn to him. No. He didn’t need to hear it again. His entire body wouldn’t move, he was cold and sweaty. Then, Ford had entered the hallway, a frown on his face, “Dipper?” The elevator was taking far too long, and the silence grew heavier with every second. But he couldn’t respond, bile rising in his throat.

Ford took a step closer, and again, his voice echoed, “Are you alright?” And another. He was getting too close to him. He didn’t want to explain to him, he knew the tears were welling up, and only a moment before he broke down, right then and there.

When the door opened, it’s mechanical noise seemed like music to his ears, he rushed inside, wordlessly, and Ford stood there, in that hallway, dusty, it’s grey walls dismal and empty, his mouth open in a silent gasp. Taking a final glance, the doors closed behind him. ‘I’m out of there.’ He thought, though his body was shaking, and he choked back a sob. ‘Why? Am I not good enough?’ He thought, ‘Am I not smart enough?’ Countless questions wandered around, an incessant white noise filling the void. Slumping against the elevator, he tried to breathe, unsteady and shaky.

Shaken from his thoughts, the door opened, and he stepped out, making two steps before he started running. It all felt numb. Cold. Dread pooled in his stomach and he hated it. He hated feeling weak. Feeling never good enough. He could never be strong, of course he knew that. He didn’t have to be. But being rejected by someone who he looked up to, the one he had spent all summer wondering about.

He felt unwanted, and damn, did it hurt.

He ran up the stairs, knowing this was probably the last time he was going to see it, and turned, eyes a little bit blurred by tears. ‘Goodbye.’ He thought, and shoved the machine open, and saw Mabel, sitting on a couch, looking miserable, though he sped past her, running out the door, missing Mabel asking an empty, sad, ‘Dipper?’

The sky was a beautiful blue, an ocean of clouds, drifting by. Though it was selfish, he wanted it to start raining. Maybe then he could feel right running away, but he never did get what he wanted. This whole summer he had been used, insulted and humiliated and… ‘I could go on and on..’ He imagined, choking out a bitter laugh. “Why would today be any different?” He mumbled, when he had tripped over a birch tree branch, falling to the rocky floor below. Sitting up, he tried to lean against whatever was behind him, but it had poked him with something. “Oww.. What the?” He asked, turning around, and came face to face, with the statue. ‘Of course.’ He sighed, and stood up to look at it. An all powerful demon, unleashing havoc upon the world, pure chaos ravaging the town just a few days ago. “Reduced to stone and dust.” He mocked, picking up his cap from the floor and taking another look. It.. had it’s hand stretched out.

He sniffled, putting the cap back on. They both had wanted something, and it had blown up in their faces. Though him, to a much less dimension destroying, world breaking extent. “You and me both, pal.” 

When he took a look around him though, the endless pale expanse of birch trees, he could imagine endless eyes wandering to gaze at him, and that mocking voice played in his mind. “I just need a puppet.” He was stupid. Used, his body mangled and all those feelings rushing back to him the moment Bill had left. He couldn’t put his faith in anything anymore, or it would always come back to haunt him. He had made so many sacrifices. ‘Still, I was selfish..’ Dipper added to his train of thought, jolting awake when a voice resounded behind him.

“What’s wrong, Pine Tree?”

“Bill?” He snapped around, and all of a sudden, he was pressured by a myriad of eyes, lurking in the mist forming around the birch trees. “Why are… you here. I thought you were gone…”

“You thought you destroyed me. Ha!” Bill laughed, and it was official. He was crazy and talking to a statue. “I’ll give you a little hint, Pine. It all started with a little…”

“The axolotl. Of course…”

“Bingo!”

“So why... aren’t you moving?”

“Because I’m not here, genius. Maybe get ol’ Fordsie over here and he can explain.”

Unconsciously, hot tears ran down his face, his breathing raggedy. “Wait, are those tears? I didn’t know you missed me that much, Pine Tree~” He racked out a loud sob shamelessly. The walls had closed in far too much and the pressure had made him crack. “O-Oh. Yikes. Was it something I said, Pine Tree? Because if so, I’ll keep going.”

“You..” He sniffled, “don’t even know…” The sentence ended with Dipper simply sobbing, lying against the statue. “Oh I do. You’re pathetic for thinking otherwise, Dipper. Thinking you could play hero when all you could do was leech off of somebody else’s work. You never amounted to anything besides that journal.” The first time Bill had said his name, was to pinpoint every crack in his facade, and break it down with a jackhammer.

Curling in further, the tears kept coming, burning and he sat there, accepting it. “You’re right. I am useless, aren’t I.” Dipper was cold, numb, sweaty, burning, all in different parts and it was overwhelming, dizzying. His breaths were unsteady, his hands kept shaking but his face was warm, that awful kind of warm, where you just can’t get to sleep, tossing and turning.

“Well, you don’t have to be. I’m still here, Nobody else is. They all take from you, leaving you with nothing. But I’m here, Pine Tree.”

His mind was foggy, and his judging skills were thrown off. “I can set you free, if you want.” Dipper offered, “I won’t be useless. For once, I’ll..”

He stood up, and posed his hand to shake Bill’s. “I’ll be useful. One way or another.”

-

Ford was looking at the mirror, with a sigh, knowing full well he couldn’t reject the boy. He was far too enthusiastic and resourceful to not have him by his side. He was a wonderful lad, though he wanted Dipper to have a wonderful childhood. Not to be stuck with him, researching anomalies and other weird oddities. Though he didn’t want to admit to anybody, he was afraid of bringing the boy along, afraid of somebody else hurting and it being his fault. He’d never want Dipper to experience the pain he had felt, whether it was from physical, being injured from the more dangerous anomalies, to mentally. He was still scarred from his muse using him, and that damned song playing in his mind.

‘Some sunny day.’ He lamented, and with a gulp, he recited what he wanted to say to the boy, for his own good. “Look, kid, in the heat of the moment, I.. asked you to be my apprentice. I’m sorry. But it just is not working out.” He tried to be forceful, though he wasn’t capable of saying it to the kid’s face. It felt wrong. He wanted Dipper to join him on his adventures, show him the world with a guiding hand. Even so, he had convinced the boy was misguided, and that by the end of the day, he would change his mind, so he didn’t have to confront him about it. He looked again, in the mirror, and reworded it. “Kid, I know you want to join me, but is it what you really want? I need you to-”

He had cut himself off when he had heard the scuffling of feet nearby him. Dipper must be going down here to ask him something. When Dipper hadn’t entered the room in five seconds, he was concerned, yelling out, “Dipper, are you there?” When no response came, he dropped the book in his hands and walked outside, and saw him against the elevator, pressing it with such urgency he was even more concerned. “Dipper?” Again, no response. So he called out to him again, taking a step forward, “Dipper, are you alright?” Something was off. The boy was huddled, and even if he knew the boy was strong, it felt as if he could crumble at that very second.

He tried to say something, but was left a little shocked when Dipper stepped into the elevator, without a word, looking at him with such a reserved, somber expression. “He must have misheard me.” Ford connected, seeing the way Dipper had left him behind in his lab. He didn’t know much about emotions, but he knew the boy must have felt awful. Feeling unwanted and rejected. Feeling as if you weren’t good enough. Dipper was going to turn to influences that would use him, abuse his trust, all under the guise of making him feel useful or wanted.

Then he heard the song again. ‘Some sunny day.’

Ford had to act fast. Though he knew that they couldn’t have possibly completely destroyed a demon of such magnitude, he didn’t realise it could be so soon. He pressed the elevator button, and sighed. ‘I’m sorry, Dipper.’

Exiting the vending machine, Ford looked around questioningly, to see Mabel, looking so unlike herself, so lifeless. “Dipper went outside.” She said, and went back to hugging Waddles, sniffling. He excused himself, and ran outside, knowing he couldn’t reassure her right now, knowing, not that her emotions weren’t important, but there were more dangerous and pressing matters to attend to. ‘What am I saying. I couldn’t reassure anybody. I’d just make her feel worse.’

‘Dipper probably went into the woods,’ he thought, and took off, running into the path nestled within the trees, and tried to follow a logical route for someone who was clouded by emotion. He took the path forward, trying to search for any hint of blue within the sea of brown, and he took a few paths, until he had seen distant birch trees. He further followed the path, and thoughts began to wander, ‘What if he awakens Bill.’ ‘What if he makes a deal with him.’ Dipper was at his most vulnerable, scared, afraid of rejection, and Bill was a mastermind. He knew how to hurt people, but… 

‘You’d change the world, no, the universe with that, Sixer,’ He had come down to him as a godly muse, trustworthy, and he was used. In chains, forced to abide by a contract he had set out. His own body was violated for somebody else’s gain. He’d never want Dipper to feel what he had felt. Forced to turn to anybody, or anything for validation. It was too late. He had inadvertently made Dipper feel that way. “I’m going to fix this Dipper. I’ll protect you from this world.”

He had stopped by a branch, which would trip up somebody who wasn’t looking where they were going, and looked forward. Lo’ and behold. Dipper was curled against the statue of Bill, and he had heard a sob. He stepped forward on instinct and the boy had said something aloud, though it was hard to make out. Then, the boy had begun to sob, as if in response to something. Then after a second passed, the boy had stood up, still sniffling. He couldn’t move, only standing in shock. His worst fears were realised.

“I’ll be useful. One way or another.” The boy proclaimed, stretching his hand out to shake Bill’s, and it made something in Ford snap. The same voice he had used when Fiddleford had left him. That same bitter resentment. It wasn’t about saving Dipper anymore. It was redeeming himself. Saving somebody from what he became. So, ran, as fast as he had ever ran before, and screamed, “Stop, Dipper!”

The boy turned to him, and he got a good look of the boy’s face, his eyes puffy and tears still pouring from them. “Uncle Ford?” He said meekly, his voice barely above a whisper. He heard another voice, echoing from the statue, “Ah, Sixer, there you are.” It sounded as if him and Bill were old friends, the tone making him grit his teeth.

“Listen, Dipper. You don’t want to release him. It would destroy everything we’ve worked for.” He was met with silence, then the boy, sobbing, answered. “Why should I listen to you? You wanted to get rid of me, lie to me like everyone else? I can be useful to somebody. Helpful! My summer is ending and what do I have to show for it? Bruises, cuts, failing at everything I could prove was real!”

There was fury in his eyes, the boy stuck in the eye of his own storm, unable to escape the winds that lashed and wailed all around him. Ford knew who he was looking at. They had both been outcasts, passionate about something most people would rather make disappear. He saw himself, thirty years ago, and he wasn’t going to fail again.

Softening his expression, he relaxed his body as he stepped forward, and he saw something falter in Dipper’s eyes. “I.. Stay back!” He warned.

-  
Everything was hurting. His ears were thundering, his heart was hammering, his body throbbing.  
“Dipper.” Ford said, his voice dripping with pity. ‘I don’t want your pity!’ He thought, and lashed out. “Why? I just want to feel useful for once. Helpful. You’d never understand that. You were always good enough. And, I..I looked up to you. But now, when it’s all done, I’ll be left behind again.” He looked up at Ford through his tears, and tried to hold back a sob, his lips trembling from the effort. “I was living in a fantasy, and now that the story’s over… I…”

“Can’t go back.”


End file.
